


First Kiss

by Queerily_kai



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alley Sex, Anonymous Sex, Bars and Pubs, Bucky Barnes Feels, First Kiss, Gay Bar, I blame CAPRBB slack, Identity Porn, M/M, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, im so sorry, natasha wants answers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 00:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10425021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerily_kai/pseuds/Queerily_kai
Summary: So, tell me Steve.”  Natasha demanded, glancing over at him briefly, “If I wasn’t your first kiss since 1945, who was it?”“Huh?” Steve asked, looking confused “First kiss?”“Yeah, remember a couple of years ago when I kissed you to hide from Rumlow?  You said I wasn’t your first.”  Natasha reminded him.“Oh yeah.” Steve answered, with a slight groan.  He had been hoping Nat would have forgotten about that by now. “It’s a stupid story, you really don’t want to hear it.”The story Steve tells is not the one Natasha was expecting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as a casual conversation in the Reverse Big Bang Slack Chat, where many a crack fic has been born recently. Sunrow asked who we thought Steves first kiss actually was, and this little bit of angst was born. 
> 
> I blame babyboybuckybarnes, cryo-bucky for the mustache and mullet, ellebeesknees and calihart for encouraging me to start writing this in one shot at midnight. 
> 
> And I'm sorry if I make you cry (actually, not sorry). Slack fics are usually crack, i think i did something wrong here.

“So, tell me Steve.”  Natasha demanded, glancing over at him briefly, “If I wasn’t your first kiss since 1945, who was it?”

 

“Huh?” Steve asked, looking confused “First kiss?”  

 

“Yeah, remember a couple of years ago when I kissed you to hide from Rumlow?  You said I wasn’t your first.”  Natasha reminded him. 

 

“Oh yeah.” Steve answered, with a slight groan.  He had been hoping Nat would have forgotten about that by now. “It’s a stupid story, you really don’t want to hear it.” he argued. 

 

“I think I do, actually.” Natasha replied with a smirk.  “And besides, we’ve still got another hour of this, so spill, Rogers.”  She had taken a hand off the wheel to point to the highway ahead of them. Steve had nowhere to go.  

 

“Alright.” Steve agreed with a huff, “I’ll tell you, but it has to stay a secret.” 

 

“Fine.” Natasha quickly agreed. “Now start talking.” 

 

\----------

 

To the casual observer, Steve Rogers was doing just fine.  He was back in the spotlight, America’s golden boy Captain America leading the Avengers and saving the world from aliens.  America’s hero was back where he belonged. 

 

The truth was however, Steve Rogers was not doing fine.  Not at all.  He was posing for photos, smiling as thankful citizen after thankful citizen stood with him for a selfie.  He was putting on the suit, following orders, and saving the world even, if that's what they wanted from him, and going through all of the correct motions.

 

Those that were supposed to know Steve Rogers, did little to help him.  It's possible that they didn’t notice he needed it.  Because Steve Rogers was doing so fine, and dealing with waking up 70 years in the future so well, that Steve Rogers didn’t even realize he needed help. 

 

He was walking down the street one night, wandering aimlessly because it was better than lying awake, when he saw 2 men kissing through a window in a bar.  He hesitated for a moment, and then slipped inside before he could think too much about it.  

 

He went to the far and of the bar, and slid onto a stool in a dark corner where he could see the door.  He ordered a whisky, neat, and sat quietly sipping it. It was for show, since he regrettably still could not get drunk.  A few men came and sat next to him, but he shooed them away, saying he didn’t want to talk to anyone. 

  
  


He found himself there the next night, and the next, and soon it was his regular routine to sit in the dark corner of his friendly neighborhood gay bar, and just watch, waiting. Like the first night, guys would occasionally come and try to talk to him, but he would always send them away.  He knew that most of the guys knew who he was, even though they never said it.  They probably understood better than most why he was hiding. 

 

One night, a guy with dark hair and a navy military style jacket came and sat down, smiling at him.  Steve just sighed, getting the feeling this guy wasn’t going to go easily.  The guy waved to the bartender, ordering another round for the both of them.  They sat in silence, sipping at their drinks and giving each other quick glances.  Steve couldn’t help but notice there was something about this guy that he was drawn to.  

 

“My place is about a block away, no roommates.”  They guy said as they finished their drinks, speaking for the first time.  

Steve just nodded and followed him out. 

It was quick and dirty, no names, no kissing.  Steve had barely recovered from his orgasm when he put his pants back on and slipped back out the door, leaving the guy panting in a puddle of his own cum.  At least the serum meant he wouldn’t have to worry about STDs he thought to himself as he walked home.  

 

When he got there, when Steve was alone in his bedroom, still sticky and sweaty from sex, he suddenly felt more alone than ever before.  He cried himself to sleep, mourning the part of himself he had lost 70 years ago, or 6 months ago.  It didn’t actually matter. 

 

When he was there though, in the moment with a stranger, feeling human contact that wasn’t from a doctor or scientist, he felt connected again.  He was experiencing life, gasping as the man's tight hole clenched around his aching cock, feeling shivers down his spine with each groan of encouragement.  He craved more. 

 

He stopped immediately dismissing the guys who would still try to talk to him at the bar. They had seen him leave with someone once, they all wondered if they might get a chance now that things had changed.  Steve would let them sit a bit, studying them, searching for something as they sipped at drinks.  Some of the guys would talk, but Steve always stayed quiet.  

 

He exchanged quick handjobs with a guy who had piercing blue eyes he couldn’t seem to stop staring into in the back alley.  Another brunette in a navy pea coat sucked him off in the bathroom.  A guy with a smile no one could say no to fucked him in the back of his car, and offered Steve a ride home that he refused.   None of them were right.  

 

After about a month, and a dozen or so guys, Steve noticed a guy slip into the bar a minute or so after him.  He had seen him earlier that day as well, standing near a bus stop when Steve was leaving a coffee shop.  Because, as he had learned, coffee was an insomniac's best friend.  The guy seemed a little suspicious, but not really threatening.  He seemed shy, like he was trying to hide under a hoodie and sunglasses.   He stood by the door, glancing around, checking out the place and looking for threats, Steve realized.  Steve relaxed a little when he realized the guy was probably a paranoid veteran.  

 

It surprised him however, when the guy suddenly locked eyes on Steve, having removed his sunglasses, and strode over.  He sat on the stool next to Steve, staring dead ahead and looking terrified.  Steve looked over at him calmly, noticing the blue eyes peeking through dark shaggy hair.   _ Does he have a mullet? _ Steve found himself wondering, once the man eventually pulled down his hood.  He had a mustache as well, hiding half his lips, that Steve thought he should have found slightly creepy, but didn’t actually mind.  He wondered what it would feel like to kiss, if it would tickle his mouth.  

 

He glanced toward the back door, the one that led to the Alley and gave the man a questioning nudge.  The man looked back at him confused, but Steve just smiled, and the man stood with a nod.  

 

Steve led him out the door and around a corner, to a spot in the shadows, hidden from view by a dumpster.  He immediately reached for the man’s pants, starting to undo his fly for a blowjob, but he was stopped.  The man grabbed his wrist tightly in a gloved hand, and pulled it away slowly.  Hesitantly, he reached out toward Steve’s chest, pressing his palm against it, fingers splayed against his pecs until Steve had his back to the wall.  Suddenly, the man surged forward with a sudden rush of confidence, pressing his lips firmly against Steves.  Steve pulled back initially, but found himself trapped in the kiss when his head hit the wall.    

 

The man's tongue swiped across his lower lip, trying to fight its way into Steve's mouth in a way that felt more familiar than it should.  Eventually, Steve relaxed, opening his mouth and kissing back, wrapping a hand around the mans lower back and feeling more complete than he had been in months as the man relaxed into his touch.  

 

Just as suddenly as he had began it, the man pulled away from the kiss.  He stood staring at Steve for a moment, mouth gaping, and then turned and quickly left the alley, disappearing.  Steve was left shaking, suddenly feeling more empty and alone than ever, so soon after feeling so whole.  He slid down the wall, curling into himself as he finally allowed himself to properly mourn Bucky Barnes. 

 

\--------------

 

“What the fuck, man” Natasha replied after Steve finished his story. She was honestly having trouble processing everything Steve had told her.  “So your first kiss was with some scruffy paranoid veteran in a back alley?  That's just tragic, even for you.” 

 

“It was Bucky.”  Steve answered, barely audible.

 

“Bucky?”  Natasha asked, sounding confused.  “But you said he was some stranger.” 

 

“At the time he was.  It was before we knew that he was alive as the winter soldier the whole time.  I was searching for a ghost, heck, I probably thought he was one.”  Steve explained.  “I mean I had suspicions that it was him, but he was supposed to have been dead 70 years.  I convinced myself that it was all just a coincidence, that the guy looked like him.” 

 

“Does he remember it?”  Natasha asked. 

 

“Yeah, he does.” Steve answered.  “A few months ago we were walking home from the market, when Bucky paused outside the door to the bar, zoning out into his remembering things face.  He had gotten away from his handlers for a few days in New York, and came to Brooklyn out of instinct when he started to remember a few things.  He had seen me earlier in the day, and followed me, and eventually came into the bar.  He said that at the time, kissing me just felt like the right thing to do even though he didn’t remember why.”

 

“Because he never stopped loving you.”  Natasha stated. 

 

“I never stopped, either.” Steve replied.  

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [21st Century Lover](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431828) by [sunrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunrow/pseuds/sunrow)




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